Brother
by Vampbarbie
Summary: A story from Olivia's point of view.


I fling myself into my baby brother's arms and hug him fiercely. He hugs me back, and kisses the top of my head. He grins at me the same way he did when we were kids and I can't quite believe he's here.

"Oh God, we thought…" my words choke off.

"…I was dead," he finishes gently. "I know. Dad told me."

He turns and gestures to someone in the shadows at the back of the aircraft hanger. This wasn't my idea of a good place for this reunion. But it wasn't up to me. Government secrecy comes at a price. I'm not sure my little brother realises this yet. He is just too excited to be home, he's practically bouncing off the walls.

Out of the darkness comes a woman, followed by a tall alien with tentacles. I take a step backwards instinctively. I've been warned but somehow it's different.

"Aeryn, D'Argo this is Olivia. My big sister," he grins at them. "Its alright Liv."

The woman says something and looks at me. I can't understand her weird clicking speech.

They've stopped well away from me. John runs to them and pulls the woman's hand. He says something in a low voice, and I realise he looks at the woman the way he used to look at Karen Shaw, all those years ago. The alien is handing him something and John skips back to me.

"Hold out your hand."

"What?"

"Just do it Liv," he says pulling my hand up.

He presses something to the back of it. It feels like an injection. I jerk my hand back.

"What are you doing?"

"Crichton, when are we leaving this hanger?"

I jolt my head up when I realise it's the alien speaking.

"Soon D'Argo." John gestures them forwards. "Its translator microbes Liv, so you can understand them. This is D'Argo, and Aeryn Sun." He indicates the alien and the woman.

Next thing I know I'm shaking hands with them.

I've realised my little brother isn't the same anymore. It's a sunny Sunday morning and he's standing in the kitchen, staring out of the window. I come up behind him and put my hand on his shoulder. He spins, his hand raised as though to strike me. He stops himself just in time.

"Oh frell, Olivia. I'm so sorry…"

I start to back away and put the kitchen table between us. I just know I feel safer that way. John is wearing blue jeans and a royal blue shirt that brings out his eyes, but he looks slightly uncomfortable. I saw what he was wearing when he met me. All leather trousers and tight t-shirt. He used to make fun of guys in leather trousers. He's not the fresh-faced astronaut who left all that time ago.

"What the hell is wrong with you John!" I snap.

He looks out the window again briefly, and then slumps into a chair opposite me. "Aeryn's out there," he says by way of explanation. He rests his head in his hands. "I can't do this Olivia. I can't do any of it. I can't come home and be Dad's son or your brother, because I've changed. I've done more than anyone can imagine." His voice drops to a whisper. "I've killed people…"

"What?" I can't quite believe what he's saying.

"I've killed people. And not just once." He looks up at me and his gaze is steady.

Suddenly the width of the table seems like an uncrossable void.

"How? Why?" my voice is so quiet I can barely hear it myself.

But John hears. "To survive. You think me and Aeryn wear pulse pistols to play cowboys and indians? Everyday someone wants to kill me Olivia. I've been lucky more often than not." His tone is harsh; like there is no way I could understand what he means. "I've done plenty I'm not proud of. But it kept me alive."

"John…" What on Earth do I say to him?

He fiddles with the cuff of his shirt then rolls the sleeves up. "From the day I left there was a hit list of people who want me dead. But there are also friends. And I'll do _anything_ to protect them."

He stares at me, his eyes like chips of blue ice. He's a harder man than the one who left and I wonder exactly what he's seen to be like this. He's no longer just my baby brother. He's a man ready to kill, willingly.

"But kill? How could you John? You wouldn't tread on a line of ants when you were five years old." I blurt this out unexpectedly, then wish I hadn't.

John's eyes narrow. He stands up, rounds the table, never saying a word. John holds out his arm, his fingers shaped like a gun. He aims it at me and makes a gun noise. I still jump. He then aims it at his temple and makes the same noise.

"Easily. You aim and fire. Think and you're dead." His voice is hard. "I've been dead, Aeryn's been dead…It won't happen again."

He turns and leaves the room, and I stand there shaking.

The cemetery is quiet, peaceful. I point down the path towards my mother's grave…and John's.

He walked away from me, Aeryn with him. She held his hand so tightly. I wouldn't follow them. How could I explain what we had done?

John drops to his knees on the green grass in front of the gravestone and reaches out a hand. First to mom's grave. Then he looks to the small stone plaque next to it. Aeryn stands respectfully back and watches him. He sits back on his heels for a long time, before reaching forwards again. He runs his fingers over the words that I know so well. Into every carved letter.

'John Crichton. Beloved son, brother and friend. You always reached for the stars. Rest in Peace'.

John crumples forwards, his head practically resting on the grass. His sobbing carries clearly to me. It's a heart-rending sound, and I want to run to him, but how can I when I'm part of the reason? Aeryn has dropped to her knees and is rubbing her hand on his back awkwardly. Up and down. She looks up at me and her eyes are cold.

How can I tell them that it was six months before we even admitted John was dead? That DK had refused to believe it. How could I say that I had made Dad move on? It was me who had the plaque placed here.

John is clutching at Aeryn now and she forces him to stand. He can barely walk. As the near I see his face is blotchy and red, his eyes puffy and still wet. He looks on the verge of more tears. This isn't my brother, it can't be. I've never seen him so…broken.

They walk past me back to the car without a word.

I hate eavesdropping; I think it's sneaky and underhanded. But I seem to be doing a lot of it lately. On John talking to Aeryn, the chats between DK and Dad, – DK almost lives here now – the few times John talks to Dad, late at night. And now I'm hovering in the kitchen doorway onto the backyard, listening to Aeryn and D'Argo talking.

The fences here are high enough that D'Argo can roam the back yard without scaring the neighbours. Aeryn is stretched out on a patch of grass, wearing black trousers and a blue strappy top. Her nose is going pink from the sun. D'Argo sits awkwardly on a white plastic garden chair.

"…I don't know what to do D'Argo."

"I know. Its difficult…"

"Difficult? John is falling apart here." Aeryn looks at the ground and pulls up a handful of grass. She lets it trickle between her fingers. "He wants this to work so badly…"

I start suddenly as I hear footsteps in the hall behind me. I turn and open the fridge. I grab a can of coke just as John enters.

"Hi, want one?" I proffer the can to him.

"No."

At one time John would never have turned down free soda. I shut the fridge and looked at him. His hair was spikier than usual, and there was an odd look to his blue eyes.

"What's wrong?"

He brushed my question aside. "Nothing," his voice was distracted. He went into the yard.

I peer round the doorframe, and watch him drop into the grass next to Aeryn. The three of them talk more animatedly than I've seen them before. I slip away silently.

"I'm leaving."

My fork is halfway to my mouth when John says that.

"What?" DK looks confused. "Why?"

"Why? Why do you think?" John's voice is clipped, as though he is trying to control his temper. The old John didn't have a temper he needed to control. "I can't stay here."

Aeryn rests a hand on his and gives it a tiny squeeze. He captures her fingers in his before she can move away.

"Why John?" The words are out of my mouth before I can think.

"Because it's not working here. I've tried…"

Dad slams his palm into the tabletop and everybody jumps, even John. "Enough! Don't you think we've tried?"

"This isn't about you!" John replies angrily standing too. He never lets go of Aeryn's hand.

"Yes it is," Dad's voice has gone ominously quiet.

"And why is that?" John's voice is sarcastic, like a petulant child.

The air is brittle, crackling with tension. I dare not speak.

"There have been sacrifices made for you." Dad's voice is hard-edged. "You don't understand what this family have done for you this last month…"

"And what about this family? Doesn't what they've done for me count too?" John gestures with his free hand to Aeryn and D'Argo. "I _can't _stay here. Sacrifices or not. It's driving me crazy!"

"Maybe I should have just let the military have you."

There is a shocked silence around the table.

"What?" Aeryn's voice is barely more than a whisper.

The look of horror on John's face will haunt me. "How could you say that?"

"Easily John. You'd be surprised what I've been offered to hand you three over."

"I won't be a prisoner again John," D'Argo says quickly.

"You know what they would do to them, and to me." John's staring at Dad intensely, but his voice is eerily calm. "I'd be in a nuthouse within the arn and that's the best case scenario. I love Aeryn, and I won't let you do anything to her. Or D'Argo."

"You loved Alex too John. But it didn't stop you running off to play with your Farscape project."

John visibly winces. Then he rounds on DK. "Do you think this too? Do you think we should be in military science labs?"

"No! God, John, I knew nothing of this." I know he's telling the truth.

John looks to me, and his eyes soften. "Olivia, tell me you didn't know about this. Please."

"I…I've been approached John. Probably CIA. But the IASA aren't talking so…" I shrug weakly and know it isn't enough.

"We leave tonight." John looks to Aeryn and D'Argo.

D'Argo nods and fishes in his pocket. He pulls out a small golden grill. Some kind of communicator maybe.

"Chiana? Pilot?" he speaks into it. "Are you there?"

A feminine voice comes back clearly. "D'Argo? You're coming back?"

"Yeah…"

"All of you?" she cuts him off.

"Yes Chi, all of us."

John has his own communicator in his hand. "I'm on my way Pip. Give us a couple of arns."

There is a whoop from the other end of the comm.

"Well Chiana is happy you're going back," D'Argo says with what I can only assume is a grin.

All three of them started to leave the room, dinner unfinished.

"You can't just leave…" Dad started.

"I have _nothing _to say to you," John's voice is hard and final.

I find a note stuffed under my pillow. It's in John's handwriting but its scrawled, messy, obviously written in a hurry.

'Olivia' is written on the outside of the folded paper. I unfold it slowly and read.

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Olivia. I seem to spend my life saying sorry. I wish I didn't have to leave. I'm sorry that I've made a mess of things for you. I couldn't stay here. It wasn't fair, not to you or to the others. Earth isn't my home now, Moya is. I love you all. I'm sorry. John.'

I crumple the paper in my hand and feel the tears work down my cheeks. My brother has gone.


End file.
